Flame

by Chelle Bliss

  Morris grins at Gigi, motioning to the prospect behind the bar for a drink, but he never breaks eye contact with her. “Because every MC has a Tiny, Rooster, Reaper, and so on, but only the Disciples have a Morris.”

  Gigi’s nose wrinkles. “That’s the reason?”

  “Doll, I’m one of a kind. Who wants to be lumped in with those sorry fuckers when you can be the only one?”

  Gigi shrugs, lifting the drink to her lips, and his eyes follow the movement. It’s time to shut down the flirtfest Morris is having with my girl, so I slide in behind her, wrapping my arm around her middle and hauling her ass backward so she’s pressed flush against me.

  “You happy to see me, baby?” she asks playfully, tossing a glance over her shoulder.

  “I figured I needed to remind Morris who you belong to, darlin’,” I whisper in her ear, causing her to shiver, but my gaze is on Morris. “I don’t want this dirty old man to get the wrong idea.”

  “My head only has room for wrong ideas,” Morris says with a laugh. “Now, let’s celebrate you comin’ home, asswad, and get shit-faced drunk, telling stories about back in the day.”

  Gigi bounces on her stool, sending shock waves through my system from the way her ass is rubbing on my cock. “Fuck yeah. That’s the best idea I’ve heard tonight.”

  “Gigi doesn’t want to hear about all that boring shit, Morris,” I hiss, because he’s trying to start trouble.

  It’s what he’s best at after all. If shit’s going down, Morris is smack-dab in the middle, stirring the pot, making sure the shit stays moving.

  “I very much want to hear about the good old days, baby. Hush your mouth.” Gigi throws a wink at me over her shoulder.

  “I could spend all night telling Pike stories.”

  “Don’t you have a woman to satisfy?” I raise an eyebrow.

  Morris shakes his head, grabbing the beer as soon as the redheaded prospect sets the bottle in front of him. “She’s passed out. Figurin’ the session we just had, she’ll be out for a couple of hours if she even wakes up at all.”

  “You’re a dirty old man, Morris.” Gigi grips my knee like she’s going to keep me quiet.

  “He’s old, all right,” I mutter, reaching for my beer with the hand that isn’t locked around her waist because nothing is going to make me let go of her.

  “I think this calls for tequila,” Gigi says to Morris, scooting backward, knowing exactly what she’s doing because she’s always thinking ahead.

  “My kinda girl.” Morris smirks.

  “Maybe we should just go to bed.” I want her out of the common room because the real shit hasn’t even begun. The night’s young, and the guys aren’t as shit-faced as she thinks.

  “No, Pike. We’re not going anywhere until we catch up with Morris here. So, settle in, cowboy, and get comfortable.”

  Morris is laughing so hard, he’s almost falling off his stool. “I can see why you like this one so much, kid. She’s mouthy and bares those kitten claws.”

  “Morris, baby,” Gigi replies, laying her hand on his arm. “I’m not a kitten, sweetheart.”

  Morris tips his head toward her, grinning like I’ve never seen the man grin before. “See, mouthy as fuck.”

  I look toward the ceiling, cursing under my breath. The long night just became longer because once these two get going, there’s no stopping them until someone’s passed out.

  “Three tequilas,” Gigi tells the prospect as he walks by, delivering a handful of beers to the guys at the other end of the bar.

  “Long-ass fucking night,” I whisper, pulling on my beer, swallowing down the bitter liquid along with the sour taste this entire evening is leaving in my mouth.

  “Have a fucking sense of humor, Pike. Did you lose your balls somewhere around Orlando?”

  Gigi chuckles, turning her head so her lips are so close to mine, I could silence her with a kiss. “Let me have a little fun, Pike. I know you have a past. Hell, so do I. I don’t know a lot about you, and I want to hear what Morris has to say. Don’t shit on my parade. Ya dig?”

  “I dig.” That’s not the end of the conversation even if she wants it to be. “Just remember whatever he says—” I jut my chin toward him “—is probably bullshit.”

  “I never bullshit,” Morris interrupts, staring at me over the lip of his beer bottle. “Well, almost never.”

  “If you learn something you don’t like tonight, you tuck that shit away and forget about it. I’m not the same punk kid I was when I lived here, surrounded by these men, five years ago. You dig?”

  “I dig.” Her eyes sparkle and drop to my mouth, and she pulls the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, making me want to haul her ass into the back room and slide something else between those beautiful lips. “Now, Morris,” she says, turning away from me quickly because she knows exactly what’s on my mind. “Start at the beginning. How did Pike end up living with the Disciples? Didn’t know you guys welcomed anyone into your world.”

  Morris snaps his fingers at the prospect who’s still fumbling around behind the bar and hasn’t delivered the tequila Gigi ordered. “We don’t usually take in strays.”

  I roll my eyes because I know he’s going to lay the shit on way thicker than it really went down. The reality of the situation is much more boring than he’s going to tell her. He’s going to glorify the entire thing, probably saying he rescued me from the side of the road like a wounded animal.

  “We were pulling this job up in Jacksonville,” he starts, at least getting that part right, but I know it’s about to go sideways. “Some crazy-ass shit went down, guns came out.”

  “For fucking real?” Gigi gasps.

  “For real, kid. Then this dumbass—” he ticks his chin toward me “—decides he’s going to jump in front of one of the bullets, because his slow Tennessee ass can’t move fast enough to get the fuck down.”

  Gigi turns, looking at me with wide eyes. “The scar on your shoulder?”

  I nod, gritting my teeth because one of the fuckers shot me, not giving a fuck that I was an innocent bystander in the entire thing. I was filling my tank with gas, minding my own business, when they decided to open fire. I didn’t have a chance to duck before I took one in the upper right shoulder.

  “When shit died down, Pike was still standing there, holding his arm, glaring at me like it was my fault he was bleeding. We had words, and the fucking punk didn’t care that I had a gun in my hand because he kept barking at me about how I put a hole in his body.” Morris laughs, running his fingers through the tip of his goatee. He pauses when the kid finally sets down three tequila shots but is still moving like he has lead in his shoes. “About fucking time,” Morris barks, shooing the guy away when he lingers a little too long. “What are we drinking to, kids?”

  Gigi hands me a shot but doesn’t give me her eyes. “To new friends and old times,” she tells him, lifting her shot in the air. They clink glasses as I watch Gigi throw back the tequila like she’s been doing it for years. “Now, finish the story. What happened after he had words with you?”

  “I figured the kid had a pair of balls on him so freaking big he could be something to us. So, I had two choices.”

  “What were they?” she asks, not giving him a chance to finish.

  “I could end his life right there, or bring his sorry, bleeding ass back here to get patched up and figure out what to do with his mouthy ass afterward.”

  “Aww,” she coos. “You totally rescued him.”

  “He fucking shot me.” I scowl.

  Morris places his hand on his chest, trying his best to look innocent. “I did not shoot your ass, kid. Wasn’t my bullet you jumped in front of that night.”

  “Don’t mind him.” Gigi jerks her thumb at me, and I tighten my hold around her waist, reminding her these men aren’t playthings.

  Morris may not have been the one who shot me, but someone in this room fucking did. They didn’t give two shits that I was innocent with piss-poor timing, filli
ng my tank when they decided to play cops and robbers at the gas station in a seedy part of town.

  There isn’t a man in this room who hasn’t drawn blood from another human being without so much as a backward glance at the carnage they inflicted or the death they left in their wake. They give zero fucks about human life. Their world revolves around money, drugs, pussy, and the brotherhood—and not in that order either.

  “And…” She leans forward, hanging on his every word.

  “So, this kid…” He laughs, shaking his head like he doesn’t even believe what he’s about to say. “He’s yelling at me, poking me in the shoulder while I’ve got my gun in one hand like I’m just going to stand here and take his shit. I didn’t know what to do, so I punched him right where he got hit, sending his ass to the floor in a flurry of curse words that would make the devil himself blush.”

  “You fucking punched him in his injured shoulder?”

  Morris shrugs. “The kid wouldn’t shut up about how I shot him. Figured I’d give him something to be angry with me about, plus, I needed him to shut the fuck up for a few minutes so I could get his ass into the back of the van.”

  “Did you know you were going to keep him?” she asks.

  “What the fuck?” I hiss, shaking my head. “I wasn’t a puppy, Gigi.”

  “Shut up,” she tells me. “Morris and I are talking.”

  “Three more tequilas,” I tell the prospect, figuring the only way I’m going to get her to stop talking to Morris is to get her so shit-faced drunk, she’ll pass the fuck out.

  “Welcome to the party, Pike,” Gigi teases, wiggling her ass right against my dick.

  I flatten my palm against her stomach, moving my mouth near her ear. “Be careful, darlin’. I’m not above throwing you over my shoulder and hauling your ass into my room and putting something in that sassy little mouth of yours.”

  “Is that a promise or a threat?” she asks with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  “Both.”

  I’ve never been more serious in my life.

  “Such a big talker,” she teases.

  I do the only thing I can. Moving quickly, I throw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and march toward my old room.

  “Put me down!” she screeches. “Help!”

  No one pays any attention to her pleas for help. I even get a few high fives as I carry her ass to the back, ready to do exactly what I promised.

  19

  Gigi

  He has one hand on my ass, only moving the damn thing when he smacks the hands of the other assholes in the room.

  I wiggle, trying like hell to get out of his hold and off his shoulder, but that only causes him to tighten his grip around my leg.

  “You’re not getting out of this one, darlin’,” he drawls, stalking on heavy feet, making my tits smack against his back with every step.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “Speaking of asshole,” he says, running a finger along the crease of my ass as we finally make it to the hallway.

  I stiffen, squeezing my ass cheeks together as tightly as possible. “Don’t you fucking dare!” I screech, lifting my head and catching sight of all the guys in the compound, laughing and watching us with total amusement. I give the biker assholes my middle finger, scowling at them for reveling in the spectacle Pike is putting on, even though I know I’m not helping it. “You’re not touching my ass!”

  “I promise you’ll love it.” His hand massages my cheeks, but I have them on lockdown, just like they’re going to stay. “I’ll make you want it always.”

  That’s the problem. I know if Pike does it, I’ll love the hell out of it. There hasn’t been anything he’s done to my body that I didn’t want more of, craving it since the second I ran for coffee and never went back. He’s skilled and generous, unlike anyone I’ve been with before…although my list is super-short and kind of embarrassing.

  I reach down, trying to get my hands on his ass so I can pinch him hard enough that maybe I’ll be able to break free. “The only thing I want is for you to put me down and let me finish my drink,” I grit out, stretching as far as I can, but it’s no use. His body is too long for my short everything even to get near anything worth pinching.

  “You’re done drinking,” he says like he’s the boss, which is laughable.

  I go limp, knowing there’s no use. I’m going nowhere except where Pike is taking me. “Where the fuck is your room? Another county?”

  Pike laughs, making my body shake with his. “We’re almost there, baby. You in a hurry to have my cock in you?”

  A door opens, and Pike comes to a dead stop. “Calling it a night?” a man asks, and I crane my neck, trying to see, but damn my size.

  “Takin’ my woman to bed. Won’t be back out until the mornin’.”

  “Morris put your shit back out and cleaned. Should feel like home for you, kid. You enjoy yourself.”

  I growl. “Hello, wanna help me here?”

  The man laughs, moving around Pike, and crouches down to my level. “Looks like you’re doing just fine, sweetheart,” Tiny says.

  “You’re all fuckers,” I hiss, which only gets me a small laugh and a headshake from Tiny as he goes back to standing on the other side of Pike and away from me.

  “You got your hands full with this one, son. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “Just reminding her who she belongs to, Tiny. You have a good night,” Pike says.

  Who she belongs to? Ugh. My father says shit like that all the time about my mother. Come to think of it, every man in my family says macho bullshit like that, and I roll my eyes every time.

  Pike starts moving and I lift my head, catching Tiny’s smile, the first one I’ve seen him crack since I met him tonight. Badass MC biker president or not, he gets a middle finger too before Pike turns a corner, opens a door, and we’re suddenly in darkness.

  “Will you put me down now?”

  “Nope,” he replies as he switches on the light, making everything in the tiny space visible. “Well, fuck.”

  I press my hands to his lower back, lifting my head up farther than before, and try to take in the sparse room covered with all things Pike. There are posters and artwork lining the walls, a twin bed along a black-painted wall, some furniture that had to be secondhand, and not one goddamn window for any type of natural light. “Is this a closet?”

  My closet at my parents’ place is twice as big as his bedroom. I couldn’t imagine living in here on a daily basis without going a little mad from the lack of sunlight and the fact that it’s the size of a prison cell.

  “It has everything we need, babe.” He finally relaxes his hold on my leg, allowing me to slide down his front, relishing the way his hardness feels against my body.

  When my feet touch the floor, Pike’s hands are on my hips and his eyes are on mine. He’s so beautiful like this. Hair wild, his blue-green eyes burning with need, and those lips begging for mine. “Pike.” I’m trying to kill a little time because now that we’re alone, I know there’s no turning back.

  Pike shakes his head. “Been thinking about this since you left me,” he says, and my breath catches in my throat. “Been thinking about the softness of your skin…” He runs his finger along the top edge of my jean shorts and across the sensitive skin on my stomach.

  Goose bumps form everywhere, scattering across my flesh like they’re reaching for his touch. “Pike,” I say again, but my voice is needy. Even I can hear the way his touch affects me, and I’m sure it isn’t lost on him either.

  “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says, licking his lips, and my gaze drops to his mouth, remembering all the ways he brought me pleasure. He bends his neck, bringing those lips to my mouth, whispering, “I need you, darlin’.”

  I’m a goner. It’s easier to pretend I hate him when he’s not about to kiss me, staring at me like he’s been in a desert without water and I’m the oasis.

  “Kiss me,” I whisper, staring into his eyes, losi
ng myself a little more.

  I barely get the words out before his lips crash down on mine, his hand sliding to my ass and pulling me flush against him. In the last fifteen months, I haven’t forgotten how he tasted or the velvety softness of his tongue, no matter how hard I tried.

  I slide my hands up his arms, tangling my fingers in his hair, holding him to me like he’s my lifeline. My knees weaken as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, giving me exactly what I’ve craved and wanted since Daytona.

  Pike turns, slamming the door behind us, but I don’t even flinch at the noise because I’m too lost in the way he’s kissing me to care about anything else around us. The world could crumble, and I wouldn’t move from this spot, away from his body, away from his lips.

  His hands are on my ass, lifting me in the air. I wrap my legs around his waist like they were always meant to be there as he walks us backward.

  The kiss deepens, becoming more demanding as his hands move to my back, sliding up my tank top, finding my bra strap. I’m in his lap, his cock to my pussy, separated only by our clothes as he sits on the bed, working quickly to unclasp my bra.

  I pull back, gasping for air as I stare at the handsome man underneath me. “Did you bring protection?” I whisper.

  Pike nods as he grabs the bottom of my tank top, and I lift my hands because I want this more than anything right now.

  “You knew I’d sleep with you?” I ask through the material as the cool air hits my skin and the bra goes with the shirt, both thrown to the floor behind me.

  “I hoped,” he says. His hungry eyes travel across my skin for a moment before he pulls my head back down, pressing his lips to mine.

  I move my hands to his sides, reaching under the thin T-shirt, wanting and needing his warmth and hardness.

  I’ve touched myself hundreds of times since I last was in his arms, trying to recreate the feeling only he’d given me. I’d failed miserably. Nothing could replicate the way he touched me, how he kissed me, or the way he made me melt into his body.